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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224902">Left Behind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlberry/pseuds/owlberry'>owlberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lost Boys [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Clay | Dream and Toby Smith | Tubbo are Siblings, Dream Smp, Gen, Heavy Angst, President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, Tubbo POV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:08:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224902</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlberry/pseuds/owlberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s not a lot he can remember from back then. It’s all fuzzy around the edges. All dragged together and intertwined nonsensically. There is… There is one thing he remembers though. </p><p>Someone got hurt.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lost Boys [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Left Behind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is the sequel to my other dream-tubbo sibling fic, long-lost. i heavily recommend you read that one first, as it will make everything here make much more sense. </p><p>i always intended to write a sequel to long-lost, but decided to put it off to see where canon took us. thankfully, the smp never disappoints, and my brain loves the angst. so, here it is! i loved writing tubbo's pov so much, and am quite happy with how this turned out. please enjoy!</p><p>minor warning for canon typical violence, non-graphic descriptions of blood, and canon typical angst. if the things shown on the smp don't bother you, hopefully this won't either.</p><p>disclaimer: this work is a fictitious in-universe telling of the story laid out on the dreamsmp. in no way is it meant to portray any of the creators named or otherwise, merely the characters they depict. thank you!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s not a lot he can remember from back then. It’s all fuzzy around the edges. All dragged together and intertwined nonsensically. There is… There is one thing he remembers though.</p><p>Someone got hurt.</p><p>It was—It was someone important. <em>Really</em> important, but looking back on it, he can’t remember. All his mind supplies are yelling, and pain, and blood mingling with the dusty floor. And he remembers being scared. For the first time <em>ever</em>, he was scared.</p><p>-</p><p>Growing up, it was always… infuriating, to a degree. And at the same time, it was… it was sad. Because he never knew. Where he came from, what happened to him, how he came to live with Phil… It never made sense.</p><p>Wilbur and Tommy… they <em>knew</em>. Phil’s their dad! He’s always been their dad! From day one, they belonged with him. Techno knew. He came from the nether. Phil was training him. From the start, he had a <em>purpose</em>.</p><p>But he… he never knew. He was just… <em>there</em>. Not like Tommy or Wilbur was there. Not like Techno was there. Sure, they all loved him. Phil treated him as a son, Wilbur and Tommy treated him like brothers… Techno always seemed scared of him, but that’s another story.</p><p>It was good. The little life they all built up… it was nice. He loved his new family, he really did. Couldn’t be more thankful to have them, to have grown up in such a wonderful environment.</p><p>Love and thanks can only go so far.</p><p>An amazing new life doesn’t explain the questions lingering about the old.</p><p>Deep down, part of him always wondered. Ran through his memories at night. Pieced together every bit of… <em>anything</em> that didn’t seem to fit. No matter how hard he tried, he never came up with anything.</p><p>So, he continued on.</p><p>-</p><p>Just when he’d moved on, given up, let it go—it all comes crashing back down.</p><p>Why, he wonders? What did he do to deserve all this? First Tommy and now—<em>Why? Why, why, why, why</em>—</p><p>His legs collapse under him. Knees skid in the snow, rubbing his skin raw under his pants. His breath puffs in front of him. His eyes are unfocused, darting wildly, but not seeing anything at all.</p><p>There’s a pounding in his entire body, causing him to shake. Thoughts fly rapidly through his head, but he shoves them all away. Wrong, wrong, <em>wrong</em>—He has to be wrong. He has to be—be crazy! It’s the grief—the grief is making him… him…</p><p>Tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. They’re from both the emotion in his chest, and the freezing wind buffeting him. His face is too numb to feel them trickle off his jaw. Slowly, he curls into himself as his breathing gets faster.</p><p>He can’t—Not <em>him</em>. It can’t be <em>him</em>. Out of <em>everyone</em>—every single being in the <em>universe</em>, it cannot… it <em>cannot</em>. He refuses. After everything he’s done, all the <em>hurt</em> and the pain and… And <em>Tommy</em>. It cannot—<em>No</em>. No, no, no, <em>no</em>—</p><p>“<em>Tubbo</em>!” A voice cuts through the cold. Even in his disoriented state, he recognizes it. That accent, he’d know it anywhere. After all, Fundy is part of his family, isn’t he? Yeah… Yeah, his family. His real family, his…</p><p>There are warm hands on his back. More yelling overhead. A myriad of footsteps crunching in the snow. Tubbo can’t distinguish any of it. All his mind can handle is to sort the voices. They’re all familiar, all <em>L’manberg</em> voices. Not him—<em>Not him</em>. Tubbo is safe. He’s okay.</p><p>The world goes dark.</p><p>-</p><p>There’s a fire crackling. For a long time, he stares blankly at it. Let’s his eyes follow the embers that spring up. Enjoy the crackling and snapping of sticks. There, he’s calm.</p><p>All of L’manberg had gone to find him. Granted, it’s only about five people, but still. Tubbo hadn’t told anyone about the message he sent to—to… His plans, what knowledge he’d gained from Ranboo about Tommy’s exile—He hadn’t told anyone anything.</p><p>And since he’s been awake, he’s stuck by that. Frankly, his mind is too empty to conjure any coherent thoughts. To figure out how to work his tongue, to form <em>words</em>. Right now, it’s all too much.</p><p>His cabinet hasn’t questioned it. Fundy and Quackity are constantly coming in and out of his room, checking up on him. Tubbo doesn’t even look at them. Just continues staring at the fire.</p><p>Granted, he has a good excuse for this, doesn’t he? Tommy’s gone. For good this time. And it’s Tubbo’s fault. It’s all his <em>fucking</em> fault.</p><p>Why shouldn’t he run out into the woods and collapse. Or lay in bed for days, unresponsive. Not willing to eat, or drink, or <em>move</em>. Why shouldn’t he want to give up? Anyone would in his position.</p><p>And for a while, he is very, <em>very </em>tempted. Part of his mind wishes to just continue lying there. Quiet, unmoving. Watching the fire. Seeing the flames dance. The wood slowly darkening. Slowly die out, until someone comes to tend to it.</p><p>Really, he thinks he would be okay just like that.</p><p>But deep down, there’s another part of him still <em>boiling</em> with rage. Except now, it’s directed at someone else. Someone who he thinks might have been lying to him for a long, <em>long</em> time.</p><p>Tubbo knows he can’t let go until he knows for sure.</p><p>-</p><p>Time passes—he doesn’t really know or care how long. Eventually, he lets himself be fed. Gets his energy up. Then, he’s up and out of bed. Marching through L’manberg, hands shaking at his sides. He doesn’t bother knocking before entering. He’s the president, isn’t he?</p><p>Just as expected, Phil is in his kitchen. Settled on his stool, cooking himself something for some meal of the day. Tubbo doesn’t care. At his noisy entrance, Phil glances over his shoulder at him. There’s a sharpness to his expression.</p><p>Yeah, he’s not too happy with Tubbo right now. Probably something to do with the whole trying to execute Techno thing. And the house arrest thing. And probably many more things he can’t remember.</p><p>But that’s fine. Because Tubbo’s not too happy with <em>him</em>, either. For the helping Techno thing. And the killing Wilbur thing. And probably many more things he can’t remember.</p><p>Truthfully, Tubbo’s not sure he’s retained his status as <em>adopted son</em>. He’s not quite sure he minds that. Maybe it’s for the better. If he’s not Phil’s son, that means he doesn’t have <em>two</em> dead brothers.</p><p>Tubbo slams the door behind him, leaning against it with arms crossed. For once, he’s not self-conscious of his glare, or his stern expression. He doesn’t overthink whether he’s intimidating or not. It comes across today, he’s sure of that.</p><p>“Did you know?” Tubbo asks quietly, voice cracking and hoarse from disuse.</p><p>“Know what?” Phil’s voice is tight.</p><p>“About <em>me</em>,” Tubbo snaps, gesturing into the distance. “About—About…”</p><p>Phil’s expression both seems to darken and soften. That part of Tubbo that hasn’t grown up yet wants to cry. Why does everything have to be this way? So complicated and painful and—and <em>hard</em>…</p><p>“You mean your brother.”</p><p>Tubbo flinches. “<em>Don’t</em> call him that, <em>please</em>—”</p><p>“What else is he?”</p><p>“A—A tyrannical maniac who’s been terrorizing me and everyone I care about since—since as long as I’ve known him! W—Well, since as long as I’ve been… been <em>here</em>…”</p><p>Phil hums, turning back to his meal in progress. “Wilbur did the same, didn’t he? Tommy still considers him a brother. Last I checked, you did too—”</p><p>“Do not compare them. Do <em>not</em>—Wilbur was—He was so much better th—than <em>that</em>! Than <em>him</em>!”</p><p>Tubbo’s hands are shaking again. He wants it to be because of rage. He’s not sure if it is anymore.</p><p>Wilbur was—was good! He was nice. He—He let Tubbo into his family. Helped raise him, make him feel welcome and safe and <em>happy</em>. Even years later, Wilbur was still hanging around! Watching over him and Tommy. Getting them involved in wars, and espionage, and…</p><p>Towards the end he was a little… a little <em>off</em>. But Wilbur was a big brother. Wilbur <em>cared</em> about him, that’s more than—than he can say about <em>him</em>. All <em>he’s</em> done is <em>hurt</em> Tubbo and everyone he cares about. All he’s done is <em>ruin</em> Tubbo.</p><p>“You knew…” Tubbo whispers, hurt in his tone. “This <em>whole</em> time—my whole <em>life</em> you knew.”</p><p>“That you have a brother?” Phil’s brow furrows. “Of course. But you knew that too—”</p><p>“<em>No</em>, that he was—was…”</p><p>“You can say his name, you know.”</p><p>“I don’t—I don’t <em>want</em> to! I don’t want to admit that I’m—that I share <em>anything</em> with <em>him</em>! That he’s my—That out of <em>everyone</em>, it had to be <em>him</em>! I don’t want that, Phil! There’s no world that I would <em>ever</em> want that!”</p><p>“He cares about you.”</p><p>Tubbo laughs, the sound maniacal. “Have you ever <em>met</em> him? He doesn’t care about anyone! Anything! Least of all <em>me</em>! And I—I’m disgusted by him! I really am, Phil! And—And you <em>knew</em>! You knew and you <em>kept</em> it from me! How could—How did you ever think that was <em>okay</em>? Why did you—why…?”</p><p>Phil shifts on his seat, obviously uncomfortable being thrown into the spotlight. For, possibly the first time <em>ever</em>, Phil’s motives are being questioned. Because all their lives they just—they <em>followed</em> him. They <em>worshipped</em> him. But he just…</p><p>Phil killed Wilbur. His <em>real</em> son, Wilbur. If he was willing to do that, what is he willing to do to Tubbo? Just how far will he go to protect Technoblade?</p><p>“He’s… He’s a very <em>troubled</em> man, Tubbo…” Phil murmurs. “There’s… there’s something <em>dark</em> in him. I think you may be judging him too harshly—”</p><p>“Dream <em>killed</em> Tommy.”</p><p>At that, Phil falls silent. Deflates slightly, brow furrowing. There’s no way he didn’t know before. Or maybe there is—he hasn’t been doing a good job at being a <em>father</em> recently. He never went to visit Tommy, did he?</p><p>Though, neither did Tubbo.</p><p>Not until it was too late.</p><p>“Tommy…? But he’s—”</p><p>“He’s <em>gone</em>, Phil.” Tubbo snaps, voice getting tight. “Everything was blown up and there was—there was a tower, Phil. And no sign of Tommy. Dream did that. Dream was <em>torturing</em> him, and so—”</p><p>Finally, his throat constricts on itself. His words die. In an angry rush, Tubbo wipes at his eyes, trying to clear the fast-brewing tears. He refuses to cry in front of… of <em>anyone</em> anymore. He’s the president. He’s got to be strong.</p><p>He’s got to get revenge.</p><p> “My best friend is dead because of him.” Tubbo spits out. “So, no, Phil. I won’t <em>accept</em> it. I won’t be <em>kind</em> to him. I won’t give him an <em>ounce</em> of respect, or kindness, or understanding. Because he didn’t give any to Tommy. He’s not my brother. He never <em>will be</em>.”</p><p>With that, Tubbo turns on his heel and storms out of the house. He makes sure to slam the door behind him. Then, he marches off to find his cabinet. They have a war to plan.</p><p>Phil is gone the next day. Escaped. Slipped right out from under their fingers.</p><p>And strangely, Tubbo doesn’t care. In fact, he’s glad he’s gone.</p><p>Being alone is better anyways.</p><p><em>Family</em> will only hold him back.</p><p>-</p><p>It amazes him. The lack of backbone in his government—<em>astounding</em>. The way they decide to turn their shoulders to him when <em>he</em> needs something… it’s impressive.</p><p>When it comes to Technoblade, Quackity and Fundy are <em>more</em> than ready to go to war. Willing to go against every <em>wish</em> and <em>policy </em>Tubbo has ever made. They’ll put their own necks on the line. Get their own hands dirty.</p><p>But the <em>second</em> Tubbo tells them they’re going to <em>kill</em> Dream, he gets protests. Suddenly, they have to <em>keep the peace</em>. Keep <em>L’manberg safe</em>. The second Tubbo asks for support, he is <em>rejected</em>.</p><p>What’s the use in being President if he can’t avenge his best friend?</p><p>-</p><p>After a fresh snow fall, Tubbo sees a ghost.</p><p>Right in the middle of L’manberg. In the lead is Ranboo, and with him Technoblade and a very unhappy looking Connor and—</p><p>And Tubbo thinks he’s finally gone insane. Truly and fully lost his mind. Either he’s having some sick dream, or hallucinating, or just… just gone mad. It’s the only explanation that makes <em>sense</em> because—</p><p>Because he—he <em>saw</em> it! He saw that place! All the explosions and the carnage, and the… the aimless tower. Unlike <em>any</em> that have been built before. Not for intimidation, for gratification, or <em>anything</em> good. He <em>saw</em> it. He <em>can’t</em> be seeing what’s right in front of him.</p><p>But he… he didn’t look too closely, did he? Didn’t… look. Didn’t try to find… All he remembers is the world turning black and then… Then he was stumbling along a nether bridge, and then he was <em>home</em>, and then—</p><p>Then he went mad. He’s just crazy, that’s it! That’s all! That’s all it <em>can</em> be, because he—he <em>can’t</em> accept this is real. Even as a crushing sense of relief falls over him, even as something in his heart seems to untangle, he can’t accept it.</p><p>Tommy is staring at him. Wide-eyed, scared. And truthfully, he looks like a stranger. He looks at <em>Tubbo</em> like he’s a stranger. It hurts. Deep down in his chest, it tears him up. It must be hurting Tommy too, because there’s that hurt in his eyes and—and Tubbo doesn’t want to think about why that is.</p><p>Tubbo can’t think about that.</p><p>There’re more important things—there’s <em>better</em> things! Because Tommy is here. He’s alive, he’s <em>okay</em>. He’s… He’s standing behind Techno. Sidling up to him. Just like he used to do with Wilbur, he’s—he’s asking for comfort. For protection. He’s asking for a barrier between him and Tubbo.</p><p>Words leave his mouth. Somewhere, some part of him is able to switch back to president mode. Able to hear out and counter whatever it is Techno is spouting. His mind is numb to it all.</p><p>All he can do is stare at Tommy. Take in his nervous, jerky movements. His chest, rising and falling. All he can do is convince himself that everything is fine. It’s all fine now. Tommy is okay so—so <em>everything</em> is okay!</p><p>Tommy is back. And Tubbo… now Tubbo realizes just how much he needs him. Now Tubbo never, <em>ever</em> wants to let him go, ever again.</p><p>But, just as with everything in his life, Tubbo doesn’t get to decide.</p><p>Because Tommy is with Techno now. He’s—He’s following him. Straightening into his armor, posturing himself to be bigger—the same way Techno does. He’s pointing his trident at Tubbo when he gets too close. Eyes sharp, voice demanding.</p><p>It dawns on him, once Connor is let go, once Techno’s weapons are returned… It dawns on him, as Tommy sidles closer to Techno. As he gives Tubbo one last glare over his shoulder. As Tommy’s back turns to him, leaving him—and L’manberg—behind.</p><p>That isn’t his Tommy anymore.</p><p>In the end, he’s still lost him.</p><p>-</p><p>The days in L’manberg are quiet now. The paths are empty, piled high with snow. The houses are empty, getting colder by the day. The winter air settles cold and harsh over them. Tubbo stands alone in his country.</p><p>His cabinet is all but disbanded. Quackity and Fundy are preoccupied with other things. New countries, new opportunities. His vice president is allied with their greatest enemy. His citizens have all flocked away. All found places they’d rather be, people they’d rather be with.</p><p>He sits in the town center, in a random seat at the new podium. Where their greatest plan was foiled, all their hopes dashed. Techno got away. Techno lived and he took Tommy. Poetic, isn’t it?</p><p>Tubbo’s breath pools in front of him. Coalescing in the air. The only real sign that he’s still alive. More than just the empty shell he feels he’s been left to. More than just a ghost of better times.</p><p>Footsteps slowly approach through the snow. In the stillness, the sound seems huge. It bounces between the buildings, off the snowy path, over the slow-moving river. Rushes through the town like a spark of electricity.</p><p>Slowly, Tubbo tilts his head over to the nation’s entrance. All his apathy snaps out of him. Shock forces him upright, out of his seat. Anger compels him to equip his sword. What keeps him from attacking, he’s not sure.</p><p>On the spruce path, just outside the main city, stands <em>him</em>. Dream. Still shrouded in that—that <em>stupid</em> mask. It has a crack, running straight down the middle. Interrupting that fucking smile. If he weren’t still so confused, disgusted, <em>scared</em>, Tubbo might feel proud of himself.</p><p>But as he and his… that <em>bastard</em> stare at each other, Tubbo can’t be sure what he feels. It’s the first time Tubbo’s seen him since their fight. Since he… he figured it all out.</p><p>His chest is a roiling ball of emotion too volatile to decipher. His head is fuzzy, his fingers tingling. His mind is telling him to run away, to attack, to burn <em>everything </em>to the ground. He’s never been good at being impulsive, so instead he opens his mouth. Asks the question he’s been meaning to for days now.</p><p>“Did you know that Tommy was alive?” He demands, voice cracking.</p><p>Dream turns his head, so it looks like he’s staring at Tubbo out of the corner of his eye. “Yes.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tubbo’s hands shake with anger. “Why didn’t you <em>tell</em> me?”</p><p>Dream shrugs. “Dunno. Not as fun that way, I guess.”</p><p>There’s something… <em>cold</em> about him. Something Tubbo realizes he’s never experienced from Dream. He’s always been… <em>deranged</em>, and <em>violent</em>, and <em>rude</em>, and—and a million other <em>horrible</em> things. But he’s never been cold.</p><p>Not to Tubbo.</p><p>“<em>Fun</em>?” Tubbo repeats, incredulous. “That’s—You—This is all just a game to you, isn’t it? All of this has just been your little <em>game</em>. Our <em>lives</em> and—and everything we <em>care</em> about! You just—”</p><p>“Yeah, and?” Dream tilts his head to one side. Somehow, his mask looks bored. “I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.”</p><p>Tubbo tightens his grip on his sword. That angry part of him is telling him to drive the blade straight through Dream’s chest. Truthfully, that’s what he’s wanted to do every day since he broke Dream’s mask. Since he looked at him and—and <em>recognized</em> him.</p><p>All Tubbo has wanted is for him to be <em>gone</em>. Because all he’s done, as long as Tubbo has known him, is hurt those around him. Cause so much <em>pain</em>, and <em>chaos</em>, and <em>torment</em>. And for <em>what</em>? Some sick <em>enjoyment</em>?</p><p>It makes him sick. To know that he’s <em>related</em> to—to <em>this</em> sick bastard. It makes him <em>sick</em> knowing they might have <em>anything</em> in common. To even <em>think</em> that they might be—be <em>brothers</em>… Tubbo doesn’t want to think about it. Acknowledge it. Speak of it.</p><p>He just wants Dream <em>gone</em>, so that way he never, <em>ever</em> has to think about him ever again.</p><p>Maybe then he can look in a mirror without wondering if he’ll turn out the same way.</p><p>“What do you want?” Tubbo yells over at him. “Why are you here?”</p><p>“It was quiet.” Dream muses. “Thought I’d come check on things. Check on you. Make sure nothing was the matter.”</p><p>Tubbo laughs, bitter. “Since when have you ever <em>cared</em>? You don’t care about L’manberg, or me, or <em>anyone</em> else. All you care about is <em>yourself</em> and making sure everyone else is miserable. Stop p-<em>pretending</em> you’re something you’re not!”</p><p>For a while, Dream just stares at him. That mask has always been unsettling. Always made Tubbo’s skin crawl. With the dark fissures down the front, it’s even worse.</p><p>It proves that all of this wasn’t just a nightmare.</p><p>With surprisingly steady hands, Tubbo brings his sword up. Points it right at Dream. It’s not hard to school his face into something stern. Something <em>deadly</em> serious.</p><p>“Leave.” Tubbo commands. “Don’t <em>ever</em> come back here, or I will kill you. I don’t ever want to see you again. Understand?”</p><p>And maybe Tubbo does have some power. Maybe being the president means something. Dream follows his orders, even when no one else does.</p><p>Finally, a <em>single</em> redeeming quality.</p><p>-</p><p>The sun sets slowly behind them, casting L’manberg in hues of orange. All the afternoon heat is slowly being sucked away. Tubbo sighs, bundling further into his coat, curling his arms around his knees.</p><p>Ranboo is beside him, the only semi-regular resident left. He’d spent the entire day at Tubbo’s side. They’re planning a festival. A celebration for L’manberg. Problem is, Tubbo doesn’t know why. Sure, he suggested it, and has been heading the project but…</p><p>Truthfully, he doesn’t think there’s much to celebrate. What have they accomplished? Exiled Tommy, forced Phil into house arrest, tried and <em>failed</em> to kill Techno… Everything has been a disaster since Wilbur died.</p><p>But a festival… that’s what Schlatt did. When everyone was leaving, when everyone was straying from him… He announced a festival. And… it brought people back. For better or for worse… But it brought them back. Tubbo just wants the same.</p><p>During the unusually warm afternoon, they’d worked to put decorations up. L’manberg is colored bright, warm, happy. It’s welcoming, it’s <em>homely</em>.</p><p>Still, no one else has stopped by. Not even to look.</p><p>Now, they sit on Ranboo’s roof, overlooking the quiet city. The strange boy is fidgety beside him. Tubbo would think something was on his mind, if he didn’t know better.</p><p>No, Ranboo’s just… having an <em>off</em> day. His memory is all over the place. Things keep flowing in and out of his head, but nothing seems to <em>stick</em>. Truthfully, it seems like he’s on a different plain of reality entirely.</p><p>Maybe knowing that—knowing Ranboo probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow… Maybe that’s what compels him. Or maybe it’s that Ranboo is the one who told him. Confessed what he knew about what had happened to Tommy. Told him what was <em>really</em> happening in exile…</p><p>Or maybe, it’s finally just gotten to be too much. More than his heart can bear alone. Maybe he just wants a friend. Someone to listen to him, understand him without judgement. Perhaps it’s a bit of all of it.</p><p>Whatever it is—grief, loneliness, recklessness—Tubbo takes a deep breath, and opens his mouth.</p><p>“Ranboo?” He asks. The teen makes a noise next to him. “I’m gonna tell you something, but you <em>can’t</em> write it down. Or tell anyone. Or even remember it, preferably…”</p><p>Ranboo looks up at him, red and green eyes wide. He opens his mouth, as if trying to form words. Then, he stops. He forgets. Instead, he grins.</p><p>“Of course, you can tell me anything.” Ranboo insists.</p><p>There’s still that disconnect in his eyes. Like he’s looking at something <em>behind</em> Tubbo, rather than actually at him. He’s smiling, but it’s empty. He’s not all there, Tubbo reminds himself. He won’t remember.</p><p>“Dream’s my older brother.”</p><p>At once, Ranboo’s face falls. Some real <em>life</em> comes back to him then. There’s something like <em>hurt</em>, like <em>betrayal</em> in his eyes now. It hurts. Stings like a slap to the face. He’s already come this far, there’s no—there’s no turning back.</p><p>“I don’t remember a lot.” Tubbo rushes. The words fall out of him like a tsunami. “Hardly <em>anything</em>, but we were together when we were kids. Then eventually I ended up with Phil and—I didn’t know! Through all the war, and the fighting, and—and <em>everything</em>, I didn’t know.</p><p>“But then, after you told me what Dream had—had <em>done</em> to Tommy… I told him to come see me. And I—I fought him. Hit him with my axe, and—and it broke his mask. I was—I was gonna kill him, I think. I really was. But then I—I—I saw his eyes! And I <em>recognized</em> him and…”</p><p>“Your… brother? <em>Dream</em>?” Ranboo repeats, seemingly lagging behind. That’s fine. It’s all fine. It’s…</p><p>“I—I don’t want it, Ranboo. You have to believe me. I don’t <em>want</em> this. I don’t wanna be <em>anything</em> like him! Even thinking that I might be makes me—it makes me <em>sick</em>! But I don’t know what to do! Everyone’s just gone and I—I don’t know what to do! How to deal with him—How to keep <em>myself</em> from <em>becoming</em> him—I don’t…”</p><p>Tubbo puts his head in his hands, gripping his hair so tight he worries he’ll pull it out. Everything is blurry. He doesn’t wanna cry, he doesn’t… He’s the president, he shouldn’t… Why does everything have to be like this?</p><p>What did he do to deserve this?</p><p>A gentle, slow hand lands on his shoulder. Carefully, Ranboo pats his back. Awkward is an understatement. Tubbo finds he doesn’t mind. Someone’s here—at least someone’s <em>here</em>. Someone still cares about him.</p><p>Once he’s got himself composed, Tubbo looks back over at Ranboo. The other boy is smiling tightly. There’s a slight furrow to his brow. Behind their strange color, his eyes seem empty. A sigh of relief crashes through Tubbo’s chest.</p><p>“Sorry, you were…” Ranboo tries, voice trickling off. “You were saying something. It was important but now I can’t… I don’t…”</p><p>Tubbo puts on his best smile, laying a reassuring hand on Ranboo’s leg. “Oh, don’t worry about it! Wasn’t anything important. I was just venting. Thanks for listening. Now, let’s go find dinner, yeah?”</p><p>Even having got it off his chest, Tubbo doesn’t feel any better. If anything, he just feels worse. Like it’s piled up <em>more</em>. Ready to swallow him whole…</p><p>But he doesn’t show it. He smiles, and laughs, and elbows Ranboo in the waist. It’s just easier that way.</p><p>It’s easier to pretend.</p><p>-</p><p>Maybe Tommy was right, back then.</p><p>That day, in the rain, on that obsidian wall… With hands shaking and betrayal in his eyes… Looking more hurt than he had since the day Wilbur died… Maybe Tommy was right.</p><p>Because Tubbo looks at it all now, and he thinks he might become the next Schlatt. It’s all so familiar. A brightly colored festival he had others put together. A speech given, Quackity at his side. And the main attraction… death.</p><p>His cabinet… none of them were interested. Really keen on the festival, putting in all the work for something so <em>silly</em>. Not when they had bigger, better, more <em>personal</em> things to focus on.</p><p>That was, until Tubbo received a letter from Dream.</p><p>Truthfully, he wanted to burn it. Toss it into the fireplace without even opening it. Something stops him. Forces him to tear it open. See what the bastard has to say. Even <em>if</em> Tubbo knows it will hurt.</p><p>But the Dream writing to him wasn’t the… <em>new</em> Dream Tubbo has been forced to consider. No, it’s the old him. The business him. Leader of this land. He extends an olive branch. Promises Tubbo he will come to the festival. Finally abide by its rules.</p><p>No armor. No weapons. Dream will come <em>completely</em> defenseless.</p><p>And so, Tubbo takes after Schlatt. Maybe that was always his destiny. Not to become Dream, not some demented tormenter… Instead, a bloodthirsty president. Frankly, he’s more content with taking after Schlatt than Dream.</p><p>Finally, his cabinet has a reason to care. Finally, Tubbo can enforce his own demands. Finally, Dream can <em>die</em>.</p><p>Except, Tubbo isn’t Schlatt.</p><p>There’s a certain kind of shock when Dream finally shows up. A betrayal burning in his chest, as the armored man begins placing obsidian. Blocking L’manberg off from the rest of the world. <em>Again</em>. Even after—</p><p>Even after <em>everything</em>. After Tubbo complied with his <em>every</em> demand. Exiled his own best friend, practically led him to his <em>death</em>… After all that, they’re right back where they started.</p><p>Tubbo isn’t Schlatt. Tubbo doesn’t get things done. Tubbo doesn’t make things work.</p><p>Tubbo isn’t really the one in charge here.</p><p>Then there’s Dream raging behind his mask. When questioned, he spits some <em>nonsense</em> about Tommy. About him screwing up. Ruining everything and—and Tubbo doesn’t <em>understand</em>. Because Tommy is <em>gone</em>! He has nothing to do with them! He <em>wants</em> nothing to do with them!</p><p>There’s a genuine rage in Dream as he leads them out of L’manberg. One Tubbo doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. Except maybe that time before exile… when Tommy threatened Spirit. When it was announced that the <em>discs</em> were all Dream cared about.</p><p>As they walk along the path, there’s a sinking feeling in Tubbo’s stomach. Something is wrong. Really, <em>really</em> wrong. Tubbo watches Dream’s stiff back and deep down, he knows it’s all over.</p><p>The community house is gone. Blown up. Torn apart. Turned to <em>rubble</em> and muddy water. The oldest building in this server, the only <em>true</em> neutral ground… And in the blink of an eye, it’s gone.</p><p>Dream is yelling, raving about Tommy. Blaming <em>L’manberg</em> for <em>letting</em> Tommy do this. And Tubbo doesn’t—he doesn’t get it! Tommy isn’t with them, and Dream <em>knows</em> that!</p><p>But Tubbo has the disc. Tommy’s disc. Despite it all, Tubbo has kept it, hasn’t even <em>touched</em> it. It’s sat safe, secure, sturdy at the bottom of Tubbo’s enderchest. Because that’s what Tommy would want.</p><p>And deep down, Tubbo wonders why. All this time, he’s had the one thing the two biggest <em>mess makers</em> want. The power lies with <em>him.</em> But he hasn’t even considered it. Because Tommy trusted him.</p><p>Even now, after everything, Tubbo can’t even think about betraying that.</p><p>But then there’s <em>Dream</em>. Angry and raging and actually, genuinely <em>upset</em>. Demanding the discs so he can—can <em>enforce Tommy’s exile</em>. As if he couldn’t do it with the one in his possession. As if he hasn’t done it already. As if that <em>tower</em> wasn’t proof enough—</p><p>Yet here they are. Standing in the ruins of the historic community house. The only place they all unanimously agreed was sacred. Wasn’t to be touched. Only to be loved and cherished by all visitors coming and going.</p><p>Tommy did it. Well, Dream <em>says</em> Tommy did it. Tubbo doesn’t want to trust anything he says. Not after… after <em>everything</em>. All the lies and the hurt and—and <em>all of it</em>. Tubbo doesn’t want to believe it.</p><p>There’s something in the back of his mind that does, though. If only for that day when he saw Tommy. By Techno’s side, eyes raging. Taking hostages, threatening people, <em>yelling</em> at Tubbo… Looking more like Wilbur than Tubbo had ever seen.</p><p>There’s something in the back of Tubbo’s mind that wants to blame Tommy too.</p><p>Even so, even through his bitterness, his hurt, his grief, Tommy trusted him. Gave him the disc, his most <em>prized</em> possession, because he knew Tubbo would keep it safe. Protect it with his life. Refuse to give it up, no matter the offer. Tommy <em>trusted</em> in that.</p><p>And Dream… he doesn’t deserve it. Never has. Not when this first started and <em>definitely</em> not now. Truthfully, Tubbo would give it to <em>anyone</em> but him. Sapnap, Techno, <em>Schlatt</em>… Given the choice, he’d give it to them first.</p><p>But Tubbo isn’t afforded the luxury of grudges. Or personal feelings, or <em>anything</em>. Because he’s the president. Possibly the <em>only</em> one who cares to keep L’manberg safe. Wilbur… Wilbur <em>trusted</em> him with his country. The only thing <em>he</em> cared about. Tubbo can’t let it go. Can’t let him down.</p><p>There he is, stuck at a crossroads. All around him, the walls seem to closing in. Running, mucky water flowing in bursts. The old craft table floor is shattering, barely stable in the few places it remains intact. His socks are getting more soaked by the second.</p><p>In front of him, Dream’s expressionless mask seems to drill into him. Fundy, Quackity, Ranboo at his sides, silent. Above… <em>everyone</em> else. All looking down at him with prying, <em>angry</em> eyes. Not rooting for anything. Simply waiting to see how it all plays out. How they can get <em>revenge</em>.</p><p>To Tubbo’s right, an enderchest. Dream is yelling again and Tubbo—He hates it. Hates how his insides shrink and shrivel at his anger. How easily he tries to fold.</p><p>Knowing the whole truth now, he hates it even more. <em>Wishes</em> he could stand tall, look Dream in the eyes and say <em>no</em>. Be <em>contrary</em>.</p><p>But Tubbo isn’t Tommy. He never <em>has been</em>, and he never <em>will be</em>. But in times like these… he wishes Tommy were here. At his side, rearing to go. Having to be held back by whatever responsible adult is closest, just to avoid an international incident.</p><p>Right now, Tubbo misses Tommy.</p><p>Except now, unlike all the times he’s felt like that before, his wish is actually answered.</p><p>Out of thin air, Tommy appears. Holds his arms up. Jumps into the fray. Finally takes Dream’s attention away. A rush of relief collapses over Tubbo. Just for a second, he’s filled with nothing but gratitude.</p><p>Just for a second, he thinks everything will be okay.</p><p>Then, Techno’s beside him. Why wouldn’t he be? Now, he’s pleading Tommy’s innocence. <em>Insisting</em> that Tommy didn’t do this. That Tommy <em>wouldn’t lie to him</em>. And Tubbo is grateful again. Happy that Tommy didn’t do something so cold.</p><p>At the same time, there’s a hole punched into his heart. Because Tubbo’s been replaced. <em>Tubbo</em> used to be the one Tommy wouldn’t lie to. Who would stand beside Tommy, fighting for him. <em>Tubbo</em> used to be the one Tommy leaned on, relied on, <em>needed</em>.</p><p>Tubbo has been replaced but—but Tommy could never. Here Tubbo is. Surrounded by his cabinet, yet still totally, frighteningly alone. No one to speak up for him. Defend him. Offer another solution. No one to lean on, rely on, no one to <em>trust</em> wholeheartedly.</p><p>Here, Tubbo is stranded.</p><p>And he’s angry. Because even if Tommy didn’t do <em>this</em>, he’s still violating the exile. A few hours ago, Tubbo wouldn’t’ve cared. Not one <em>bit</em>. Now, Tommy is with Techno. Wearing armor, wielding weapons, ready to fight Dream. Ready to put L’manberg—<em>Tubbo</em>—at risk.</p><p>It’s clear, once more. In his grief, his confusion, his hurt, Tubbo became blind to it. Only wished for company, wished for companionship, wished for his best friend back. Now, he feels like he did. That day, on that obsidian wall, in the rain.</p><p>Tommy doesn’t care. Not about him. Not about what <em>he</em> cares about. But Tubbo was always expected to. Always forced to put his life on the line—for <em>discs</em>. Forced to care about them as much as Tommy did.</p><p>But when it came to L’manberg—the country Tommy helped form, the country Tommy fought for, the country Tommy <em>died</em> for—he didn’t care. Once Wilbur was gone, once Wilbur couldn’t care, neither did Tommy. Couldn’t even care for <em>Tubbo’s</em> sake.</p><p>Tubbo glances at the enderchest. Tommy shoves him away from it. Yells. And suddenly, it all fades to the back. His cabinet, their audience, Techno, <em>Dream</em>, the ruins of the community house. Suddenly, it’s just Tubbo. Just Tommy. Just the boiling feelings in his chest.</p><p>Suddenly, it all comes out. Because Tubbo can’t keep doing this. <em>Any</em> of it. And Tommy… Tommy is <em>right here</em>, yet so <em>impossibly</em> far away. Far enough that Tubbo fears he won’t ever be able to reach him again. Far enough to stray to <em>Technoblade</em>. To <em>replace</em> Tubbo.</p><p>And Tubbo is here. Stranded.</p><p>It’s all a blur, really. All a mess because these are thoughts he’s <em>had</em> and shoved away for so <em>long</em> they feel timeless. Feel unreachable, unavoidable, yet unspeakable. But there he is, screaming them into the sky. Screaming them into eyes as blue and harsh as lightning.</p><p>Yelling isn’t enough anymore. Finally, it’s all off his chest, but it isn’t <em>enough</em>. It never would’ve been. It’s all out his head but instead of relief, or mourning, or <em>emptiness</em>… it’s just more anger.</p><p>Then there’s an axe in Tommy’s hand. Just as he’s always—<em>always</em>—done, Tubbo copies him. Tommy swings at him. And Tubbo swings back. He lets the world go red. Lets the anger and the hurt inside take over.</p><p>And he fights to <em>hurt</em>.</p><p>Not just with his weapon, but his words. Because just when he thinks it’s all out, it’s all <em>okay</em>, there’s more. So much more. This is the worst he’s ever felt, and Tommy doesn’t care. Tommy wasn’t here. Tommy <em>replaced him</em>.</p><p>It’s all a mess. Neither of them is particularly <em>classy</em> when it comes to fighting. Especially not now, driven by raw emotion. Especially not now, with the ground slick with water, the walls crying. Especially not now, when <em>everything</em> is on the line.</p><p>For once, Tubbo has more anger in him than Tommy does. He lands more hits. Pushes him back. Forces him into the water. Makes him cower behind his shield. And it feels good. For once, Tubbo is <em>winning</em>.</p><p>Then, just like always, Tommy opens his mouth.</p><p>“<em>The discs were worth more than you ever were</em>!”</p><p>Suddenly, it all stops.</p><p>Everything goes still. All the boiling in him shuts off. Turns to a quiet, slow trickle.</p><p>With those few words, Tubbo feels <em>just</em> as bad as he did when he went to go visit Tommy. Finally went to go see him. Tubbo feels like he’s staring up at that tower all over again.</p><p>The world seems fuzzy around the edges. All Tubbo knows is that Tommy has stopped. Looks just as shocked as Tubbo feels. Then, Tommy calms. Tells him to give Dream the disc. Suddenly, he doesn’t care. Why can’t he just <em>care about something, why</em>—</p><p>There’s an apology from Tommy. Tubbo mimics him. He always has.</p><p>Tubbo looks over at Dream. Looks at the enderchest. And he listens to Tommy. He always has.</p><p>He always will.</p><p>Beside him, Dream laughs. All his earlier emotion is gone. Suddenly, he <em>fine</em>. Happy, maniacal, <em>whatever</em>—</p><p>There’s more talking. Arguing. All at once, Tommy has changed. Now, he looks at Techno like he’s a danger. Now, he sidles back up to Tubbo, head held high. Now, he glares at Dream, Techno, Quackity—<em>everyone</em>, just like he used to.</p><p>Like it’s him and Tubbo against the world.</p><p>Maybe it always has been.</p><p>Maybe it can be again.</p><p>“Listen, Tubbo, Tubbo…” Dream says, and Tubbo’s focus suddenly hones back in. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Well, thank you, for giving me the disc… I just wanna say that you’re an idiot. You are an <em>absolute idiot</em>. And you have <em>no </em>power, and you are the <em>worst</em> president that has <em>ever</em> been—Because you’re <em>no president at all</em>!</p><p>“Listen, <em>listen</em>! You’re not even <em>president</em>! <em>Quackity</em> is more president than you! <em>I’m</em> more president of L’manberg than you! You listen to—You get <em>pushed around</em>! By <em>everybody</em> here. Because you are an <em>idiot</em>! You are a <em>buffoon</em>. You are a <em>fool</em>. You fall for <em>everything</em>!</p><p>“You just gave me the <em>one</em> thing I needed to <em>destroy</em> L’manberg! I don’t <em>care</em> about L’manberg! I don’t care about <em>anything</em>! I’ve said this before. The only reason I had <em>not</em> destroyed L’manberg is because <em>you had the disc!</em> I had to be friends with you to get the dumb disc back!</p><p>“I don’t <em>care</em> about you! I’m not your friend! Okay? I cared about getting the disc back! And I got it back. And that’s—that’s the <em>only thing</em> that really matters! You can’t even run your nation right! <em>Ranboo</em> is a traitor! One of your most <em>trusted</em> friends! He was meeting with Techno and Tommy and told them <em>everything</em>!</p><p>“You can’t even run your <em>own nation</em> correctly, Tubbo! L’manberg is weaker than it’s <em>ever</em> been. And it’s because of you! You have—You have <em>destroyed</em> everything. You have <em>ruined</em> your friendships. You have ruined L’manbergs allies. You have just—You’re a <em>horrible</em> president, Tubbo.”</p><p>And that’s… that’s Dream. That’s always <em>been</em> Dream. Heartless, and cruel, and—and <em>hurtful</em>. That’s him, and Tubbo knows—he <em>knows</em> he shouldn’t expect anything else. He knows he shouldn’t believe it, shouldn’t give in, shouldn’t <em>care</em>.</p><p>Even so, despite his best efforts, Dream’s words drill a hole in him.</p><p>Tommy is back at his side, but looking at Dream, Tubbo feels like he’s still stranded.</p><p>-</p><p>Rain falls heavy, turning the battered ground to mush. Mist crawls through the fresh crater. Slithering between jagged rocks. Consuming the charred remains of wooden homes and carpet floors. Glowing orange where fires still chatter on.</p><p>Water soaks through Tubbo’s hair, slicking it to his forehead. Dripping into his already wet eyes. Crawling across his soot and blood-streaked cheeks. Pooling off his parted, shaking lips.</p><p>Tubbo’s suit is soaked through. The wind snaps at him through the holes in the fabric. Left from explosions, or weapons, or angry hands tearing at him. Every part of him shakes. Every part of him hurts.</p><p>It’s all quiet now, as Tubbo stares down into the crater that used to be L’manberg. His only love, his only passion… Taken from him in an instant. And there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. Only yell and scream and protest and complain.</p><p>Maybe Dream was right.</p><p>He’s useless, he’s powerless, <em>worthless</em>…</p><p>Footsteps snap through the mud behind him. Tubbo doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know who it is. There’s a feeling now. Dancing across his spine whenever he gets too close. An angry nausea pooling in his throat. Fingers clenching and unclenching with intrusive thoughts.</p><p>“Why did you do this?” Tubbo asks, voice shaking with his tears.</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I?” Dream counters. He’s sharp. Uncaring.</p><p>Despite his disgust, his hurt, part of Tubbo managed to kid himself into thinking Dream cared about him. Even if Tubbo would never accept it, accept <em>him</em>, there was a strange affection. <em>That</em> Tubbo would not protest. Not if it kept him safe.</p><p>But here, now, Tubbo knows it was only ever diluted fantasy. They’re brothers—Dream would <em>have</em> to care. But of course, he doesn’t. It’s all just fake. Tubbo means nothing more to him than the nation he just torn apart.</p><p>Shaking with anger, and grief, and the cold, Tubbo stands. Turns on his heel. Forces himself to lift his chin. Stare Dream down with all the fight left in his soul. He forces himself to be strong, be powerful, be <em>something</em>.</p><p>“I hate you.” Tubbo spits. “More than—than <em>anything</em> else! More than Schlatt, or Wilbur, or Phil, or Techno, or <em>anyone</em>! Actually, I don’t even hate them! I never did! But you… I hate you so much. I wish you were <em>dead</em>; I wish would have left me and <em>stayed away</em>! Fuck you—<em>Fuck</em> you!”</p><p>Dream sucks in a breath, posture changing. He’s trying to say something. But Tubbo—Tubbo doesn’t care. For once, he just doesn’t. He just wants to speak and get it all out and <em>leave</em> it.</p><p>“This was everything I cared about!”  Tubbo screams, gesturing back at the ruins of L’manberg. “And I know—I <em>know</em> you don’t understand! You made that <em>plenty</em> clear! But this was… this was everything to me! This was my chance to feel useful, and needed, and <em>special</em>, and you just took it away! You’ve taken <em>everything</em> away!</p><p>“You’re just—just <em>cruel</em>, and heartless, and a—a—a piece of <em>shit</em>! I can’t believe it’s <em>you</em>! Out of <em>everyone</em> in the entire world, I had to end up with <em>you</em> for a fucking brother! And I can’t believe you would <em>do this to me</em>! To all of us! I’m so fucking ashamed to know that I’m—that we’re—”</p><p>Tubbo takes a few steps back, chest heaving. He pulls on his hair. He blinks quickly to clear his eyes of the tears blurring his vision. Everything hurts. <em>Why</em> does everything hurt so much, <em>why</em>—</p><p>“I just hate you…” Tubbo whimpers. “I hate you so much. I don’t—I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t… I just… I ca—can’t…”</p><p>No more words will come. His chest is too tight, his head pounding too hard. All the energy, all the rage, it fades away. Suddenly, he’s just tired. Tired and hurting and grieving.</p><p>He turns back around. Crouches down into the mud. Holds his head between his hands. Watches the mist swirl through the remains of his pride, his joy, his love. Tubbo watches L’manberg sink further in the ground, and he cries.</p><p>At some point, the dark presence behind him disappears. The footsteps fade into the rain. It’s the one spark of happiness Tubbo finds there.</p><p>-</p><p>Truthfully, Tubbo doesn’t know how he’s pulled away from L’manberg. Doesn’t know who it is that coaxed him away. Or if it was anyone at all. Maybe it was his survival instincts kicking back in. Begging him to get warmth, comfort, safety.</p><p>All he knows is he ends up at Eret’s castle. The man offered to let those left without homes stay there for a while. Why he did that, Tubbo doesn’t know. Why they accepted, after everything he’s done, Tubbo doesn’t know that either.</p><p>Tubbo ends up curled against the wall in one of the castle’s towers. Someone directed him there, he thinks. Can’t remember who. Can’t… Can’t really place anything.</p><p>All he can feel is the shattering in his chest. Grief and betrayal and anguish all mixing together. Images flash in his mind. That obsidian grid. Bright flashes of explosions, falling down into the deep. The ground shaking, the air crackling, rain splattering against his cheeks.</p><p>And he sees Dream. Dream, and Phil, and Techno. All people who were—were supposed to be his <em>family</em>. Were supposed to take care of him, protect him, <em>root</em> for him. Instead, they took everything away. They ruined him.</p><p>There’s creaking on the stairs. Tubbo looks over just in time, as a messy head of blond hair appears. Another stab of pain snaps through his chest. This all is just… it can’t be real. It’s too much, he can’t do this, it <em>can’t be real</em>—</p><p>Tommy notices him immediately. Stares at him for a while. It’s one of the few times that Tubbo looks at him and can’t even recognize him. Can’t pinpoint what he might be thinking. Feeling. Wondering.</p><p>Tubbo looks at Tommy, and he sees a stranger.</p><p>Even so, Tommy drags himself into their cramped space. Tosses his collected blankets on the floor. Then, he throws himself down at Tubbo’s side. Not close enough to touch, of course. To feel, to know he’s there, he’s <em>real</em>. All Tubbo can do is stare and pray and <em>regret</em>.</p><p>After a moment, Tommy glances over at him. Meets his gaze. There’s a tiredness to him that Tubbo hasn’t seen since… since Wilbur died. Just like Tubbo, he’s soaked to the bone. Still speckled with soot, and blood, and mud.</p><p>Seeing him now, back in the flesh… <em>Okay</em>. Alive. Back at Tubbo’s side… It’s too much. Relief, fear, guilt, overwhelming <em>joy</em>—it all crashes down on him at once. There’s a million words dancing on his tongue, things he’s wanted to say <em>forever</em>. But it weighs him down. Keeps him in place.</p><p>He has to try. After all this, everything they’ve been through, he needs to try. Tommy deserves it.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” He chokes out. It’s the best he can muster. But he knows it’s not enough. It will <em>never</em> be enough. Nothing he ever says will… will fix this. He’ll try though. He’ll do whatever it takes to get close to redemption.</p><p>Tommy grimaces, looking down at his stained shoes. “Yeah, me too… I’m—yeah.”</p><p>It’s painful like this. In all the time they’ve known each other, it was easy. They just clicked. No work had to be done. No actions turned over in a head. No <em>wondering</em>, no wishing, no wanting to go back. Like this, they’re lost.</p><p>“Look, I don’t—” Tommy clears his throat, shifts nervously. “I just—Can we go back? B—Back to how it was because this… this suck! This fucking sucks, all of it. And I… It’s all behind us. I don’t wanna…”</p><p>“Yeah…” Tubbo murmurs. “I… I don’t wanna either.”</p><p>“Can we go back to normal then?”</p><p>There’s a lot left unsaid. Apologies needed, explanations left behind, feelings ignored. They’ve both messed up, bad. And a lot. For a long time. But it’s… Everything else is so, so screwed up. They’ve lost everything, they’re <em>alone</em>…</p><p>And Tubbo really, <em>really</em> just wants his best friend back.</p><p>“Yeah. I’d like that.”</p><p>Just like that, it all seems to fall away. Tommy gives him a tired half smile. Tubbo tries to mimic it. He’s sure it fails miserably. But that’s okay. Because the normal Tommy doesn’t care. Never has. The normal Tommy just sits there, a silent beacon of comfort.</p><p>Even when they were kids, Tommy was never quite <em>affectionate</em>. And really, Tubbo never was either. It just made everything more awkward. So, they got along well. Respected each other. Left each other alone.</p><p>But right now, Tubbo is cold. And lonely. And upset. And Tommy is back, alive, warm, safe. He hasn’t been for a long, long time. For right now, Tubbo pushes away the guilt. The hurt, the pain, the discomfort. He allows himself to just be thankful. Just for this <em>one</em> thing.</p><p>Tommy is back, and that is enough.</p><p>The castle is cold, drafty. They’re both soaked through to the bone. Wounded, scarred, scared and lonely. So, for <em>right now</em>, Tubbo pushes it all away. Scoots closer to Tommy, lays his head on his shoulder. Let’s himself be <em>clingy</em>.</p><p>For a moment, Tommy is stiff beside him. It’s probably too much, but Tubbo is too tired to care. Seemingly, Tommy is too. His head thunks down against Tubbo’s. Tommy is allowing himself to be clingy too.</p><p>Despite it all, right here with his best friend back, Tubbo decides everything will be okay.</p><p>-</p><p>It doesn’t really all sink in, until they take their last walk. It’s one they’ve taken a million times before. From Tommy’s home to the community house. Every dip in the path, every crack, every turn is engraved in both of them.</p><p>This time, it feels different.</p><p>Now, they’re both laden in armor, armed to the teeth. There’s a glowing compass clutched in Tommy’s hand. An eerie exhaustion in the usually bright boy. A quiet sadness, acceptance, mourning in him. Yet, Tubbo feels none of the same.</p><p>He doesn’t feel anything, really.</p><p>As they walk, he knows he should. When they reach the remains of the community house, he knows he should. When the silhouettes of all their old acquaintances, friends, enemies come to greet them, he knows he should. As they say their goodbyes, he knows he should.</p><p>And yet, there is nothing. It should be daunting. Terrifying. Grand, even. Yet, he stares down what may well be his last day alive, and there’s nothing. If anything, he just feels… fine. Happy, even.</p><p>There’s a lightness to him as he and Tommy bicker. Argue and banter like they always did. Shove each other around, nearly dipping their boat.</p><p>He’s not ignorant. He knows exactly what they’re going to do. Who they’re going to face. Just how likely it is they won’t return. Tubbo knows all of that. But in the moment, he simply doesn’t care.</p><p>On the horizon, the daunting silhouette of a towering mountain appears. At the sight, Tommy’s face falls. A tightness returns to his posture. The compass points steadily ahead. Right to the top. Still, Tubbo does not hesitate.</p><p>Truthfully, the climb is grueling. They shimmy their way around the rocks. Struggle to move in their heavy armor. Many times, Tubbo climbs on Tommy’s shoulders to reach the next ledge. Sweats as he pulls Tommy up beside him.</p><p>They reach the summit. All the joviality disappears between them. Suddenly, they can’t ignore it anymore. Pretend everything is okay. Enjoy each other’s company, maybe for the last time. Right then, they have to grow up again.</p><p>And yet, when Dream comes into view, Tubbo feels nothing. No fear, no anger, no panic—nothing. There should be a vengeance in him. A burning grief for all that he has lost. All he has been put through. But he looks at Dream’s cracked mask, and… he’s empty.</p><p>Beside him, there is Tommy. There’s still that quietness to him. A bit of restraint. Tiredness. Still, in the way he clutches his axe, it’s clear to see. He is feeling enough for the both of them. So, just like he always has, Tubbo follows his lead.</p><p>When Tommy jumps at Dream, interrupting him, Tubbo joins him. Let’s himself go on autopilot. Tommy and Tubbo swing their axes in harmony. Dream dodges. And Tubbo can’t help but lament. It’s always been this, hasn’t it? The three of them, the struggle.</p><p>If it’s going to end, of course it would be like this.</p><p>There’s the taunting—just like there always is. An obsidian tower built. A disc played. And—just like <em>always</em>—Tommy falls prey. His hands and shoulders shake, his blue eyes turn electric. Tommy responds, passes Tubbo a sword. Keeps Dream’s attention. Tubbo follows orders. Just like always.</p><p>It’s just like then. The back and forth. Towering up, knocking each other around. Succeeding, just for a <em>second</em>, only to have it ripped away. And, just like <em>every time before</em>, they try. They try so hard. Fight harder, faster, smarter than the last time. They give it their all.</p><p>Just like every time before, they’re just not enough.</p><p>Even the two of them, using every item they prepared, putting every ounce of strength into every blow… Even at their maximum, they can’t put a scratch on Dream. He’s too fast, too agile. Not once does he have to pop a potion, bite into a golden apple… Not <em>once</em>.</p><p>Then, there’s the ultimatum.</p><p>“<em>So, listen. Tommy. Just… gimme the disc and I won’t kill Tubbo</em>.”</p><p>It’s strange. Even hearing his life threatened, there’s… nothing. If anything, Tubbo just wants to laugh. Laugh at how absurd that is. How absurd this <em>all</em> is. Dream is his brother. And here he is. Threatening to kill Tubbo over a <em>music disc</em>.</p><p>Tommy is headstrong, doesn’t believe Dream. Runs at him again. Dream scoffs. Dodges Tommy and pushes him back. Turns his mask’s dead eyes to Tubbo. And he attacks.</p><p>There’s no reason for Tubbo to think he was bluffing. Nothing Dream has ever shown him is proof that he <em>cares</em>. That he wouldn’t kill Tubbo to get his way. Even so, it takes him by surprise. When Dream doesn’t hold back. Pushes him back on the cliff face—to the very edge. Doesn’t let up his attacks, even when Tubbo is on his knees, face bloody.</p><p>Then, there’s Tommy, screaming for Dream to stop. And he does. Holds his axe over his head, ready. Watches motionless as Tubbo cowers behind his shield, yelling for Tommy.</p><p>Dream turns around. Goes back to where Tommy is waiting for them. It finally sinks in then. Dream really, <em>truly</em> doesn’t care about him. He’s just a tool. A way for Dream to get to Tommy. Tubbo is <em>worthless</em> to Dream.</p><p>It shouldn’t hurt. He should know this already. He sh—should <em>know</em>. So, why does it… why does his chest feel like that? Why—<em>Why</em>?</p><p>Looking at Tommy again, seeing the fear in his eyes, Tubbo feels himself harden again. Dream doesn’t care—but <em>Tommy</em> does. Tommy always has. And Tommy… he’s done so much for him. Took him in, cared about him, became his best friend. He made Tubbo feel wanted.</p><p>Most of all, Tommy forgave him. For putting that stupid country first. For sacrificing Tommy in the name of “peace”. For leaving him, alone and scared and <em>hurting</em>. Tommy forgave him for it, like it was nothing.</p><p>So, Tubbo has to try. Because <em>this</em>… this is what Tommy has always cared about. This is what has kept him going forward. This is his fight, his journey. For him, Tubbo has to <em>try</em>.</p><p>When Dream’s back is turned, Tubbo places down an enderchest. Steps away carefully, quietly. Widens his eyes, gestures for Tommy to run for it. He has a disc on him. If they can just—just get <em>one</em> back, that’s… that’s something. That means they didn’t fail.</p><p>“Tommy…” Dream is saying, as Tubbo sneaks back to the blond boy’s side. “I still have one of the discs. <em>And</em> I have Tubbo. Listen, make your choice. Choose between your disc, or Tubbo. You know I’m not gonna kill <em>you</em>… But Tubbo…”</p><p>Tommy glances over at him, and it’s clear he’s scared. Tubbo doesn’t understand why. He has a disc. Why is he…</p><p>“Wait, so if—if I were to run away now… And—and chest away the disc… How could you even kill Tubbo? He’s in full netherite.”</p><p>As Dream is explaining, putting into words <em>exactly</em> how he would chase Tubbo, maul him… Tommy pearls. Appears behind Dream, where Tubbo placed the enderchest. In a flash, Tubbo watches him pull out the disc, put it inside, the slam the lid shut.</p><p>And for a moment, Tubbo is happy. Because they <em>did it</em>. They got one back. Tubbo gave it away, but they <em>got it back</em>, he helped Tommy, he <em>did it</em>. They’re both yelling. Screaming about how they need to leave, get out…</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>Dream’s eerily cool tone stops them both in their tracks.</p><p>“I mean, it doesn’t change anything.” Dream’s mask turns between them both. “You had the disc in your inventory. I can just… kill Tubbo. It’s the same.”</p><p>Tommy’s eyes widen again. “Tubbo… Tubbo get with me…”</p><p>He runs past Dream, back to Tubbo’s side.</p><p>“Tommy you’re not—you can’t defend him!” There’s a lightness, a sense of victory in Dream’s voice. “You were defending him before! I—I haven’t even <em>tried</em> yet!”</p><p>A heavy sigh rips out of Tubbo’s chest. Because he knows it’s true. Not just for today. It’s possible Dream <em>never</em> really tried. Yet, he’s still beaten them. Crushed them at every turn with no remorse. He can do it again. And again, and <em>again</em>, until the end of time. End they’re both <em>dead</em>.</p><p>Truthfully, Tubbo’s not sure he really wants to do that.</p><p>“Listen.” Dream snaps, he’s getting impatient. “Make your decision. Tubbo <em>dies</em>… Or you give me the disc. Ten… Nine…”</p><p>Tommy turns to him, eyes wide. Scared, he’s really… scared. For so long, Tubbo thought Tommy was invincible. Untouchable, unshakable… Now, ever since they came here, met Dream, lost Wilbur… Tommy’s just a scared, lonely kid. For some reason, he looks at Tubbo for answers—as if Tubbo is <em>any</em> different.</p><p>“Tubbo…” Tommy’s voice is pained. “What do I do? I don’t want you to <em>die</em>—”</p><p>“Keep the disc.” Tubbo tells him firmly. “Keep the disc, Tommy.”</p><p>“Wh—<em>Why</em>?”</p><p>“It’ll be worth it! It’ll be… It’ll be worth it.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>, that’s not—”</p><p>“It’s <em>fine!</em> I’ve done <em>enough</em> with my life.” Tubbo interrupts him, speaking over Tommy’s incoherent protests. “I’ve done <em>enough</em>! It’s fine! Keep the disc! Just—”</p><p>Dream’s countdown is almost up. Tommy looks at Tubbo, then at Dream, then at Tubbo again. Before Tubbo can try to talk some sense into him, try and <em>stop</em> him, Tommy rushes forward. Back to the enderchest.</p><p>With an iron gaze, Tommy holds out the disc. Offers it to Dream.</p><p>And Tubbo… Tubbo doesn’t know <em>why</em>. This… This is <em>it</em>. This is everything they’ve been working towards. Tommy got a <em>disc</em>, he got <em>it back</em>! After Tubbo gave it up and—and… Just like that, he gave it back.</p><p>“Thank you…” Dream murmurs, looking at it. Skin prickling, Tubbo runs back to Tommy’s side. “Wow, I didn’t think it’d be <em>that</em> easy, but… I mean, that wasn’t even the <em>disc</em>.”</p><p>Dream breaks down laughing. A maniacal sound, enough to make the strongest person’s skin crawl. Tubbo sidles closer to Tommy. Tommy is fixated on Dream, watching him cackle with wide eyes.</p><p>“Oh my gosh…” Dream scrubs over his mask, like he’s rubbing his real face. “That’s just how <em>powerless</em> you are! <em>That’s not even the disc</em>! I’m just <em>playing</em> with you! That’s literally not even the disc, <em>neither</em> of these are the disc, I’ll just—”</p><p>The two discs—green and purple—appear in Dream’s hands. Then, like they’re paper, Dream snaps them in half. Even knowing they’re fake, Tubbo can’t help but flinch. He watches the pieces fall into the grass. Realizes he was ready to die for… for nothing.</p><p>“You know…” Dream looks over at them again, tilting his head. “You’re gonna listen to me. Or you’re gonna <em>die</em>, because I’m not playing around <em>now</em>. So, this is what I want you to do. Tommy, drop the Axe of Peace, first of all.”</p><p>“You’re not gonna kill me.” Tommy lifts his chin, trying to feel <em>some</em> ounce of… of <em>something</em>.</p><p>“I’m not gonna kill <em>you</em>.” Dream agrees, leaping forward and banging his axe into Tubbo’s helmet.</p><p>Ears ringing, he stumbles back, hiding behind his shield again. His head’s gone all fuzzy from the constant beatings. Beside him, Tommy gasps. Agrees, quietly. He throws down the Axe of Peace.</p><p>“Thank you. Alright…” Dream murmurs, digging a small hole in front of Tommy. “Drop your stuff in the hole.”</p><p>Everything in Tommy goes stiff then. His breathing gets heavy. His eyes go… glassy, distant, hazy. And Tubbo knows. Ranboo told him, back then. This is what Dream did to him. One of the many ways he… he made his life so painful, so unbearable.</p><p>Tubbo doesn’t want to. Really, he <em>doesn’t</em>. But Dream turns to him. Demands that he puts his stuff in the hole. At Tubbo’s hesitance, he smacks him again. Causes his ears to ring, his vision to go blurry.</p><p>Just for once, Tubbo wants to be strong for Tommy.</p><p>He can’t even do that right.</p><p>As the explosion rings out, Tommy sobs quietly. Mutters to himself, <em>no, no, no</em>, over and over. There’s pain in him. Worse than Tubbo has ever seen—even when… when Wilbur died.</p><p>At least back then, they won. Lost the battle, won the war. Got rid of Schlatt, of Techno, of Manberg… They got it all back. In return, they gave up Wilbur. But now? They’ve given up <em>everything</em>. Here they are, defenseless, wounded, <em>completely</em> at Dream’s mercy. There’s nothing left.</p><p>Just Dream. Telling them to follow him. He’ll take them to the real discs. Show them off, because there’s nothing for them to do. There’s just <em>Dream</em>. Smug, arrogant, <em>happy</em>, knowing he has beaten them completely.</p><p>When they’re on the elevator, taken down to Dream’s… <em>lair</em>, Tubbo knows. They were screwed either way. All this fighting… it’s been in vain. There was no point to any of it. Because, just like Dream says, he has <em>always</em> been one step ahead.</p><p>Dream shows off the discs. Rubs in his victory. Spouts some nonsense about the <em>state of the land</em>. How Tommy brought… attachment. And so, Dream cut his. Cut everything he cared about. Tubbo is bitter then. Bitter for reasons he refuses to admit to himself.</p><p>Then there’s the hall. Decorated display cases. Beside them, signs. Names of every important item, beloved pet… Everything everyone cares about. Dream has a spot for it. A spot for him to put it, once he steals it away.</p><p>As Tubbo and Tommy stare in horror at it all, Dream tells them of a prison. Tubbo knows about it, of course. Sam is… his friend. A good friend. No, he never told Tubbo <em>much</em> about it when it was being built. But enough to know… it’s bad. Really, really bad.</p><p>Dream wants to put Tommy in there.</p><p>Of course, Tommy doesn’t accept that. He never has. When Dream isn’t looking, Tommy makes a break for it. Tears the Axe of Peace off its new place on the wall. Brandishes it at Dream, eyes blazing.</p><p>In return, Dream sidles up to Tubbo. Smacks the flat side of it into his ribs. No skin breaks, but it knocks the wind out of him. Forces him to his knees. Through the pounding in his chest and head, something cold lays against the nape of his neck. The axe blade, ready to cleave him in two.</p><p>At once, Tommy puts his hands up in surrender. Places the Axe of Peace back on the wall. Tries to placate, in his special way. He gets in Dream’s face, swearing and yelling and screaming. Dream snaps back to him meet. He always does. The pressure against his neck falls away. Tubbo lets out a shaky breath.</p><p>“—I <em>don’t need Tubbo</em>!” Dream yells, cutting over Tommy. “<em>Listen</em>. Tubbo isn’t <em>fun</em>. Tubbo’s a <em>pawn</em>. He’s a <em>follower</em>. I’ve used him as much as I can, but he… he’s a little—”</p><p>“Tubbo’s not a <em>follower</em>!” Tommy gets into Dream’s face again, waving his hands about. “Tubbo was the president—the <em>last</em> president—He’s not a <em>fucking </em>follower!”</p><p>“Yeah, <em>president</em>. Second to Quackity. And Ranboo. And <em>Fundy</em>, and everybody who told him what to do. I’ve—I’ve already went over this. Tubbo’s always <em>been</em> a follower—”</p><p>“Tubbo’s <em>not a fucking follower</em>! You need Tubbo as much as you need me!”</p><p>“I don’t need Tubbo at all, actually.”</p><p>“Well because without Tubbo, what I am dickhead?”</p><p>Dream only sighs. The sound is muffled by his mask. There’s irritation in the tense lines of his shoulders. An annoyance, in the way his fingers curl around his axe. A twitching in the veins on his neck. Tubbo knows then. It’s over.</p><p>“Tommy.” Dream’s voice is level. “I wanna give you a chance to say goodbye. You’re going in the prison—”</p><p>“I’m not gonna <em>say goodbye</em>!” Every bit of Tommy is shaking now. “We’ll fucking get out of here, alright? Every time—<em>everything</em>—we’ve got away!”</p><p>“<em>You’ll</em> get out of here. It’s Tubbo’s time to go.”</p><p>“Dream…” Tommy looks behind them, at the portal, the discs. “You can keep the discs. For now. And me and Tubbo will go. Cuz this isn’t—”</p><p>“No. Tommy, I don’t care about the discs. Okay? I already explained, I care about power. And the thing is Tubbo… Tubbo’s a <em>pawn</em>. He’s… It’s… Just, say your goodbye. I’ll—”</p><p>“<em>No</em>!” Tommy screams, falling a few steps back. “Fuck you, bitch! What’s the worst—<em>Fuck</em>! <em>Shit</em>!”</p><p>“Tommy!” Dream yells over him, shutting Tommy up. “You’re gonna miss out on your chance to say goodbye to your <em>best friend</em>. Okay? I’m <em>not kidding</em>. I’m <em>going</em> to kill him.”</p><p>“You’re not! You’re not going to—”</p><p>“<em>Listen</em>! You can deny it all you want, but then you’ll lose out. He’ll die and you’ll regret forever that you didn’t say goodbye. So, I’ll give you a minute. Say your goodbyes.”</p><p>With that, Dream marches over to the other side of the room. Leans against the wall. Watches them, axe still in hand. Adjusting his grip on the handle. Ready to… to…</p><p>Tommy stumbles back, towards Tubbo. He’s still shaking. Trembling like a leaf in the wind. Staring at Tubbo like he’ll disappear any second. Be thrown into a pit and just… And Tubbo feels his heart break. He knows how it feels to lose his best friend. Now… now…</p><p>“He’s not gonna kill you.” Tommy insists, words coming faster than Tubbo’s ever heard. “He’s not gonna <em>fucking</em>—He needs me. You’ve seen him deceive everyone, Tubbo. You know he’s not gonna <em>kill us</em>. I’ll tell you what we’ll do, we make a break for the portal. We can run all the way back to mine, because you know I have the—the secret portal at the exile case, if we run to <em>that</em>—”</p><p>“Ah, we will be dead before we get to the portal.” Tubbo’s voice is dull, even to him. He’s not sure why he interrupted. Tommy’s trying. Why does he have to ruin that? “Too much of a distance.”</p><p>He looks over at Tommy, who’s looking at him with… with nothing but <em>hurt</em> in his eyes. Pain and grief and… Shock, really. Terror, that Tubbo is here, giving up right in front of him. That’s not… supposed to be <em>them</em>. They’re supposed to fight. Until the very end, they’re supposed to…</p><p>But Tubbo’s tired.</p><p>He’s really, really tired.</p><p>“It’s alright.” Tubbo shrugs. “We had some laughs. It was… it was fun, while it lasted. But—”</p><p>“<em>Why</em> have you just accepted it?” Tommy demands—no, it’s more of a beg, really. He sounds on the verge of tears. “Don’t just accept it now! No, we never—Tubbo, we don’t just accept defeat! Alright, we never do!”</p><p>“We had some laughs.” Tubbo repeats again. “It was fun, y’know… All good things must come to an end eventually. I just didn’t think that this would be… my—my coming to an end, if you will—”</p><p>“What am I without you?”</p><p>The words stop Tubbo short, just for a second. He stares at Tommy, who’s looking at him like he needs a lifeline. More desperate than… than Tubbo’s ever seen, actually.</p><p>“Yourself.”</p><p>And to Tubbo, that is the whole truth. To him, there is no difference in Tommy, depending on whether Tubbo is around or not. Tommy is just… Tommy. He always has been. Always will be. Tubbo is… inconsequential to that.</p><p>Maybe that isn’t <em>Tommy’s</em> truth though. His gaze falls to the ground. Distant, hurt… His fingers clench so tight, his knuckles are burned white. It hurts. Hurts to see <em>Tommy</em> hurting so much. Because of him.</p><p>He shouldn’t give up, he thinks. It’s wrong, it’s cruel—it’s what <em>Wilbur</em> did. And Tommy… Tommy deserves better than that. More than that. But unfortunately, Tubbo can’t give him what he deserves. That much is clear now.</p><p>Tubbo is tired. Of all the fighting, the conflict, the pain. Tommy may still have that fire in him, willing him to go on, but Tubbo’s has gone out. So, he will pass alone what little kindling he has left, and hope Tommy’s can remain. Can fight the weather and the cold, and somehow be happy.</p><p>“So, you really…” For once, Tommy’s voice fails him. “Are you accepting this?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s… it’s alright.” Tubbo tries a small smile—it doesn’t stick. “It’s alright. Hey. It was fun. We said our goodbyes… Already at the start.”</p><p>“But we were optimistic! You <em>knew</em> we were optimistic! All the way here… But this isn’t… this isn’t…”</p><p>“Well, you know… You get backed into a corner. This is… Like, he described me as a pawn? This is checkmate. This is it. This is the end. I suggest you resign.”</p><p>There’s a tense moment, where Tommy looks over at Dream. The masked man hasn’t moved. The only sign he’s real and not an armor stand is the sight of his fingers, still gripping at the handle of his axe. Still fidgeting with it. Ready, waiting to pounce…</p><p>“Tubbo…” Tommy’s voice is low and serious. “Even though this entire time… our entire <em>lives</em>… I’ve regarded you as my—as my <em>sidekick</em>… Really Tubbo, I was your sidekick. S—So <em>please</em> don’t go.”</p><p>It breaks his heart. But Tubbo has to step forward. Towards Dream. He looks back at Tommy, smiles. Tries his best to give him a bit of comfort. A moment of clarity, between the two of them.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Tubbo reassures him. “It’s about time, anyway.”</p><p>At that, Dream steps away from the wall. Hefts his axe over his shoulder. Even in the dark room, his mask has a glint to it. There’s something about his posture, as he walks over to Tubbo. As he adjusts his grip. Dream knows he’s won.</p><p>One less pest for him to deal with.</p><p>Just as Tubbo’s accepted it. Taken a deep breath, ready for it to be his last—the portal sputters. In tandem, they all look over. Pathed in portal light, perhaps the last person Tubbo expected to see.</p><p>Punz.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Dream. But you should’ve paid me more.”</p><p>-</p><p>It feels like they’ve been here a million times before. At this point, they may have.</p><p>Even so, it feels strange. After everything, it doesn’t feel seem possible. They could be here, on this rusty old bench, with the janky jukebox… the <em>discs</em> filling the air around them. It doesn’t feel real, that they’re here. Alive, watching the sunrise.</p><p>Apparently, Tommy feels the same. He stares blankly out at the paling sky. His mouth hangs slightly open, just like it always does when he’s… shocked. Scared, unsure…</p><p>But that’s okay, Tubbo decides.</p><p>Because they’re both here. They’re okay. It doesn’t matter how scared, afraid, <em>lost</em> they feel. They have each other. They have <em>time</em> to figure it out. That’s… That’s what matters.</p><p>Along with the melodies of Cat, the events of the day seem to swirl between them. Looking back on it, Tubbo cringes at how easily he gave up. How he folded, decided he’d just… <em>let</em> Dream win. And on another level, it scares him.</p><p>He doesn’t want to think about how close Tommy was to sitting on this bench alone.</p><p>No, that’s just… That’s too much.</p><p>It’s… It’s in the past. They can move on. Go back to normal. To just being <em>them</em>. That’s what they decided they would do. Pretend nothing ever happened while they… they figured things out.</p><p>But… they have. They’ve dealt with… with <em>everything</em>. The discs are back. Tubbo’s already founded himself a new place to stay. Somewhere he can feel safe. Techno and Phil haven’t shown back up. And… Dream’s gone. Locked away, <em>never</em> to hurt them again. So, it’s… fine. Suddenly, everything is <em>fine</em>.</p><p>When he looks over at Tommy though, he can’t help but think that’s… a lie. All he can think of is… is that tower. Logstedshire, blown to bits. Tommy <em>gone</em>, and <em>hurting</em>, and manipulated… All he can think is that it’s his fault. He sent Tommy out there, <em>he did that</em>—</p><p>More than that, it’s the lying. Because he knows. He didn’t… <em>actually</em> do that. Force Tommy to drop all his belongings. Torment him, sabotage him, manipulate him… Tubbo didn’t do any of that. Dream did. Dream hurt Tommy. But Dream is—</p><p>“Can I tell you something?” Tubbo asks. His voice sounds distant to himself.</p><p>Tommy jumps slightly, pulled from his thoughts. “Yeah? Of course of you…”</p><p>“Promise you won’t hate me for it?”</p><p>Tommy’s brow furrows. “Why would I… I’d never hate you.”</p><p>“You might. Because of this, you might. And you’d have every reason to, I’d…”</p><p>“Spit it out.”</p><p>“Promise me!”</p><p>With a huff, Tommy sits up. Turns to glare at him. “<em>Fine</em>. I promise I won’t <em>hate you</em>. Better, idiot?”</p><p>Tubbo exhales heavily. It does feel better. Tommy doesn’t lie, doesn’t make promises he doesn’t want to keep. Not with <em>Tubbo</em> at least. Most of the time… But after today—No, he wouldn’t. Not today. </p><p>He looks away from Tommy then, instead squinting out onto the horizon. Watching the flaming sun peek above the treetops, the mountains, the sea of ruins below. Everything seems to get ruined here… He only hopes they’re exempt from it. He and Tommy…</p><p>Not allowing himself to second guess, he opens his mouth.</p><p>“Dream’s my brother.”</p><p>There’s a long silence. Tubbo can’t bear to look over at Tommy. Suddenly, it all feels like sand, running through his fingers. Impossible to stop, impossible to retrieve. Just flowing, further and further and—</p><p>“You—Your—<em>What</em>?” Tommy demands.</p><p>Tubbo rushes to explain. “He gave me to Phil when I was little, that’s why… I didn’t know! I couldn’t remember anything—I still kind of can’t… I knew I had a brother before, but I had no idea it was him! Not until you were in exile…”</p><p>“You… He… Tubbo, he did… He’s <em>fucked up</em>, and he did a lot of fucked up things to <em>me</em> and—”</p><p>“I know.” Tubbo finally glances over at him. Nothing but shock shows in his expression. “I know what he did, he… Ranboo told me. When you left to be with Techno, I… I thought you were dead. I wanted to know <em>how</em>, so… Ranboo told me. I, um… tried to attack Dream. Broke his mask, recognized him, that’s when…”</p><p>There’s another moment of silence. Tommy apparently can’t bear to look at him. Turns to the rising sun instead. It hurts, deep in his chest. Feels like his heart is trying to give out. More and more and more sand—</p><p>“You attacked him?” Tommy asks, distant.</p><p>“I mean, yeah… I thought he’d killed you.”</p><p>“But when he’s going to kill you, I’m just supposed to accept it?”</p><p>“T—There was really no other choice! It just… I just…”</p><p>“He’s your… Oh,  <em>fuck</em>, you’re his… And he knows?” Tommy looks over at him, Tubbo nods. “He <em>knows</em> and he… he was willing to fucking… Just like that? Like you were nothing? What the <em>fuck</em>!”</p><p>“Yeah…” Tubbo murmurs, attention down on his hands.</p><p>“That is…” Tommy tries, frustration bubbling. “He is… What the fuck. What the <em>fuck</em>—”</p><p>“Do you hate me?”</p><p>Tommy is quiet for a long moment. Long enough that Tubbo wonders if he’s going to walk off. Tubbo doesn’t dare look directly at him. As if meeting his eye is what would push Tommy over the edge. Maybe he’d look at him and see—</p><p>But Tommy stays. Bops his leg up and down, suddenly antsy. Fidgets his fingers, pulling at them and popping his knuckles. There’s anger in him. It’s directed at Tubbo, it has to be—</p><p>“No, I don’t.” Tommy tells him firmly, barely able to keep it steady. “I—I fucking hate <em>him</em>. I have for so fucking long, but now—This is just a whole other level. He’s just…”</p><p>“A monster…” Tubbo supplies quietly.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>. He’s… He’s the <em>opposite</em> of everything you are. I mean—Are you sure? Are you actually <em>certain</em> because I <em>cannot</em> understand how <em>you</em> and—and <em>that</em> are—”</p><p>“I’m sure.”</p><p>Tommy exhales, settling down again. “Well, fuck.”</p><p>“Mhm…”</p><p>Silence stretches between them again. An invisible divide that seems to tear at Tubbo’s insides. Maybe he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. It was—It was a <em>good</em> day. Because they won. Somehow, they won it all back, and didn’t have to give up anything this time.</p><p>Then, Tommy slings an arm over his shoulder. Squeezes him tight. Tubbo looks up at him, and Tommy gives him a quick smile. A firm nod. Pats his back sharply, before leaning forward to adjust the jukebox. With a moment of fiddling, and music begins to play again.</p><p>Suddenly, Tubbo knows it will all be okay. Because Tommy stays. </p><p>Despite it all, he <em>stays</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>“He’s my brother, you know.”</p><p>Tubbo doesn’t know why he says it. Why the words burst out of him. Why now, of all times, he decides to be upfront. Truthfully, there’s a lot of those moments lately. Times when he just… can’t help himself.</p><p>After his confession to Tommy, that day on the bench, it dawned on him. All this… it’s too much. Far too much for him to carry alone, silently, without any help. The only way he knows how to remedy that, is to speak. Whenever it’s too much. Whenever he’s overwhelmed, he just says it.</p><p>It’s helped, overall. But now… Well, Tubbo’s not sure it’s the right time. Those thoughts are only validated when the creaked of levers and machinery stops behind him. He feels a heavy gaze on him. And for the first time, judgement.</p><p>Tense, shaking, suddenly scared, Tubbo looks over his shoulder. To where Sam stands by the wall, a lever still in hand. His expression is concealed by his mask. His bulky armor hides his posture. Any hint of what he might be thinking is kept from him.</p><p>“Oh…” Sam tries, voice quiet. “That’s…”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.” Tubbo turns back to the wall of lava in front of him. “I… know.”</p><p>There was surprise on all sides, when Tubbo announced his intentions to go visit Dream in the prison. <em>Violent</em> disagreement from Tommy. Milder hesitance from Sam, and Jack… Confusion from everyone else.</p><p>Why would Tubbo want to see Dream? After everything? After he was so <em>set</em> on killing Tubbo, so set on <em>ending </em>him… Why would Tubbo give him a minute of his time? Why would he <em>care</em>?</p><p>And truthfully, Tubbo isn’t quite sure of that himself. All he knows is that the thought has been keeping him up at night. Ever since Tommy saw him, came back smiling and more carefree than Tubbo had seen in ages…</p><p>Really, Tubbo just wants to talk to him. It’s been… Well, they haven’t ever <em>properly</em> talked, have they? Now’s the time to try, Tubbo thinks. It’s as simple at that.</p><p>Behind him, Sam flips another switch. There’s a clanking in the roof, the walls, the floor. Slowly, the wall of lava begins to fall. The whole prison is a technical marvel. All Tubbo wants to do is wander the halls, tug on Sam’s arm, ask him about <em>everything</em>.</p><p>There’s no time to even fantasize about that. Not when the lava falls completely. Not when across the gap, a small room comes into view. Not when a mask appears, as a man stands.</p><p>It feels like decades, as they stare at each other across the lava sea.</p><p>Then, before Tubbo can second guess himself, he’s being shuttled across. Right to Dream’s cell. Back into his reach—ready for Dream to exact revenge, finish his plans—</p><p>No, he can’t… can’t think about that right now. None of it. This is no time to be scared. Right now, he has to hold his head high. Stare Dream right in those blank, mask eyes. Square his shoulders and <em>challenge him</em>. <em>Dare</em> him to do anything.</p><p>It doesn’t matter what knowledge Dream <em>may</em> or <em>may not</em> have. If Dream hurts Tubbo… Tommy won’t hesitate. Won’t think of Schlatt, or Wilbur… That he knows for sure. Tommy promised him.</p><p>The machinery underfoot trembles to a stop. Suddenly, Dream is right in front of him. With only a barrier of netherite between the two of them. Quickly, Tubbo glances over his shoulder. Meets Sam’s eye across the void. Sam nods firmly. Lava falls.</p><p>It’s just them.</p><p>The barrier between them falls. Tubbo clenches his fists. Forces himself to be strong as he turns back around. Faces Dream head on. Despite his best efforts, he knows he’s not intimidating. Dream is a head and a half taller than him. Double his weight probably. And more than that, he’s…</p><p>He’s beaten Tubbo before. Easily. Wholehearted. Nearly destroyed him entirely. And he could do it again. Looking at Dream now, he knows they both understand that.</p><p>Even so, Dream only takes a few steps back. Goes to sit down against the back wall. Let’s himself slouch, take an entirely nonthreatening position. It feels like a white flag. Call for a truce.</p><p>Tubbo accepts.</p><p>Sits down himself, on the other side of the cell. Fidgets, as he tries to find his words. Why did he come again? Just to prove he could? There’s—He has to say <em>something</em>. There has to be <em>something</em> he wants to—</p><p>No, there should be a million things! Dozens upon dozens of reasons for him to yell and scream and throw things. An endless list of things for him to <em>blame</em> Dream for. For him to snap at him. Brush him off. <em>Hate him</em>. There should be…</p><p>There should be something. Anything. <em>Everything</em>. But here, now, Tubbo is just tired. And lonely, and scared, and <em>hurt</em>. Most of all, he just wants this to be done. Put to bed, put away, put behind him.</p><p>“Will you take that stupid mask off?” Is all Tubbo can think to say.</p><p>As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets them. So far, Dream has seemed passive enough. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be any indication he means to be violent.</p><p>But now Tubbo’s running his mouth. Nipping at his heels, pushing and prodding at him. Now, Tubbo is instigating. And Dream—he always retaliates. Always meets them halfway. So, Tubbo counts his blessings and waits for a blow back.</p><p>It never comes.</p><p>Instead, Dream reaches up with slow hands, and undoes his mask. As he pulls it away, Tubbo’s chest tightens. Despite himself, he leans back. Like whatever is behind the mask will bite. The sound seems to echo, when Dream tosses his mask to the side.</p><p>Suddenly, everything seems laid bare between them.</p><p>From across the dark room, Dream stares at him. His eyes are sharp, unforgiving, harsh—yet entirely familiar. They’re mismatched. His right eye an endless black, his left a shocking white.</p><p>All along his face, swirling tendrils of lumpy scar tissue. Running over his nose, through his lips, shaving off a side of his ear, and nipping at his eyelid. Despite his best efforts, it’s hard not to cringe at the sight.</p><p>“What do you want?” Dream finally snaps, after a moment of Tubbo’s staring.</p><p>Tubbo startles, cursing himself. He wants to be strong, why can’t he just be <em>strong</em>—</p><p>“I just wanna know why.” His voice is smaller than he’d wish. “Why Tommy, and the discs, and the war an—and why were you gonna kill me? I mean, I’m—and you—And then you just… All for the <em>discs</em> and I…</p><p>“But more importantly, I wanna know why you… you left me. When we were kids. Because I don’t remember a lot, but I remember that and—Was… Was I just not good enough? Too little and weak for you to drag along, take care of, or—”</p><p>“No.” Dream cuts through him, scowling. “No, that’s not it—that’s not—”</p><p>“Then <em>why</em>?” Tubbo demands, some of his grief finally leaking out. “<em>Why</em> did—Why all this—Why?”</p><p>There’s a quiet moment where they just stare at each other. All the things they never said, all this time, seems to lay between them. An endless, bottomless ocean stretching the entire length of the cell. Slowly grappling onto them both, ready to pull them down, down, down forever.</p><p>“Something’s wrong with me.” Dream says slowly.</p><p>“Oh, I know <em>that</em>.” It’s harsher than Tubbo intended. In the moment, he finds he doesn’t care.</p><p>Dream flinches. “No, I mean… There’s something in my head, and it just makes me dangerous. I can’t control it. But it’s been there forever and… When it really took over, I thought I’d hurt you. So, I found Phil. I’d heard stories of him, I knew he’d take care of you. I thought you would’ve been better off with him, and seeing you now, I know that for a fact.”</p><p>Tubbo looks down at his hands then. They’re surprisingly steady. That’s not the answer he expected. All along, he thought it would’ve been… crueler. Unreasonable, or harsher, or <em>something</em>…</p><p>But Tubbo thinks back on himself, thinks about Dream… Revisits his childhood, safe and warm with Phil, and Tommy, and Wilbur… It’s hard to argue. No matter how much he may want to. It was… Ending up with Phil was for the best, really.</p><p>Even if it hurts now.</p><p>Across the cell, Dream shifts. For once, he seems uncomfortable. Out of his depth. Right now, he doesn’t have everything under control. He doesn’t have Tubbo figured out. Here, he really doesn’t have any power.</p><p>“Why are you here?” Dream asks quietly, eyes down. “Why did you come?”</p><p>Maybe it should hurt. Knowing that Dream still doesn’t want him, still can’t accept having him around. Maybe he should want to cry or scream or <em>something</em>. But he’s long past that, he thinks. They both are.</p><p>“Because I hate you.” Tubbo admits lightly. “Really, truly, I do. But—But I don’t want to. I don’t wanna hate anyone. I’ve seen too many people be ruined by that, and I just… So, I came here to say… I forgive you.</p><p>“You did a lot of fucked up things to a lot of people. To me, as well. And—And that’s not okay. It will never really <em>be</em> okay. But I don’t want to carry that around with me. I want you to stay here and repent, but I’m going to forgive you. For everything you’ve done to <em>me</em> and me alone, I forgive you.”</p><p>Silence follows his words. Dream’s mismatched eyes continue drilling into him. There’s no discernible expression on his face. All along, Tubbo thought the mask was what hid his emotions but now… Maybe that’s just <em>him</em>.</p><p>“Thank you.” Dream murmurs, and it sounds real. “I… don’t deserve that from you. You’re a… a good person, Tubbo. A great person, actually.”</p><p>It should mean nothing. Dream is—is a villain in Tubbo’s life. All he’s done is hurt and betray and abandon him. Anything Dream says should be <em>meaningless</em>, but even so… Tubbo still feels a bit of prideful flush. A tiny, easy bit of… happiness.</p><p>“I always…” Dream tries, scowling at the floor. “I always cared about you. Tried to… protect you. Shield you from… But I know I wasn’t… I wasn’t always the best at it. And I did it wrong. And… and at some point, I abandoned it entirely because I was angry and hurt and… stupid.</p><p>“I’m sorry for that. There’s no reason for you to believe me but… I am. If I could go back, I would just… focus on the good. Protect you from… from all this. All the pain and the conflict and <em>everything</em>. Because you don’t deserve it. None of it, you just…</p><p>“You should just be happy, Tubbo. And I hope you can be, even after all this. I hope you can be okay…”</p><p>Tubbo can’t help a small smile. “Thank you. I’m working on it. And… thank you for looking out for me. But you don’t have to anymore.”</p><p>With a grimace, Dream nods. It’s strange, seeing him like this. A small, bitter part of Tubbo wants to believe it’s all an act. A silly little show to lure them back again. Suck them back into Dream’s game, his playing field.</p><p>But… Tubbo doesn’t think that’s the case. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking. His regular naivety coming back to bite… But he looks at Dream now, hunched in his cell… It seems real. At least for right now, this second, he’s genuine.</p><p>He’s trying.</p><p>Behind Tubbo, there’s the clanking of machinery. Clicking in the walls, as the prison begins to move again. Their time is up. Sam said it wouldn’t be long. He didn’t want to not have eyes on Tubbo longer than necessary…</p><p>With a small sigh, Tubbo picks himself up. Brushes off his pants. Dream watches his movements, face once again unreadable. Even so, he stands as well. Curls his hands behind his back and dips his head.</p><p>“Thank you for visiting me.” Dream murmurs. “It… It does mean a lot.”</p><p>Tubbo gives him a smile. “You’re welcome.”</p><p>The netherite barrier pops up between them again. The wall of lava falls away, taking its suffocating heat with it. Across the way, Sam is there, arms crossed. Tubbo gives him a wave, letting him know everything is okay.</p><p>The platform comes across to collect him. Tubbo turns, gives Dream one last look. Another small smile, a reassurance. One side of Dream’s scarred lip twitches up as well. Not quite—but close enough. For now, it’s enough.</p><p>“Bye, Tubbo.”</p><p>“Goodbye Clay.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for reading! i hope it was worth your time. i appreciate it so much &lt;3</p><p>a third and final installment to this series is in the works, and will hopefully be up soon. until then, take care! </p><p>huge thanks to <a href="https://twitter.com/AzuraJay/">jay</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/caz_unknown/">caz!</a> without them none of this would be possible &lt;3</p><p>
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